


Home Is

by nagi_schwarz



Series: Unspeakably Complicated Circumstances [8]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Cedric Diggory Lives, M/M, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-04
Updated: 2019-05-04
Packaged: 2020-02-23 21:21:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18710188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nagi_schwarz/pseuds/nagi_schwarz
Summary: Written for the comment_fic prompt: "Harry Potter, Harry Potter/Cedric Diggory or Harry/any, non-famous harry."In Cedarville, Harry isn't the famous one.





	Home Is

The best thing about living in a small town in America like Cedarville was that no one knew who Harry was. Sure, the other Magical Law Enforcement Officers at the Red Hills office knew vaguely who Harry was, occasionally made _Boy Who Lives_ jokes (even though Harry, at twenty-three and a seasoned agent with the department, didn’t really qualify as a _boy_ anymore), but around town, Harry wasn’t the famous one, the popular one, the one people watched as they went past.

Even though Cedric hadn’t really done anything of note, he was popular around town because he was such a nice person. He’d worked at the best coffee shop in town, he was handsome, he had an _exotic British accent,_  and he was a man of mystery, with all the scarves he wore whether it was hot or cold. And Harry was okay with that. He was okay with people stopping them on the pavement to have a chat with Cedric, update him about their lives.

Cedric had made such a good prefect and Head Boy because he’d cared about his housemates, gotten to know them, listened to them. Cedric had made such a good Unspeakable because he cared about attention to detail, to information, and also he could just remember what people told him much more easily than Harry did. Harry’s facility for remembering details and synthesizing them later had grown over time, and he was just as good an MLEO as Cedric, but Cedric was still better with...people.

Seeming strangers would bring Cedric gifts of new scarves as souvenirs from their travels, or perhaps scarves bearing the colors and names and logos of their favorite sports teams (even though Cedric didn’t follow any Muggle sports, American or otherwise). Cedric could wear a different scarf every day of the year and never repeat for three years at the rate he was going. Cedric always accepted the gifts with a sincere, grateful smile, a handshake or a hug as the situation warranted, and then he and Harry could get on their way.

“Was it like this for you? Back in England?” Cedric asked, one night, while he and Harry lay tangled in bed after slow, easy lovemaking.

“You saw a bit of what it was like during the Triwizard tournament,” Harry said.

“Rita Skeeter being absolutely barmy and unethical, you mean.” Cedric stroked Harry’s hair absently.

Harry was always going to be the shorter of them, tended to end up cuddled against Cedric’s side and tucked under his chin. “Also Malfoy and those stupid badges.”

Cedric winced. “Ah, yes. Those.”

“Sometimes people brought me gifts. Once a girl brought me chocolates dosed with a love potion, only Ron ate them instead. Hermione was displeased, to say the least.”

“Really?”

“People are nice to you, because you’re just...sort of popular. People back in England - they all thought they knew me, because they’d heard stories about me while I was growing up totally unaware in the Muggle world, or because they’d read about me in the Daily Prophet. And they felt like they had some sort of _right_ to my time and attention or whatever. If people randomly gave me scarves and pretty much left it at that I’d be fine.”

Cedric hummed thoughtfully. He was the thinker, of the two of them, less impulsive, though just as speedy when it counted. “You don’t call England _back home_ anymore.”

Harry shrugged. “My home is with you.”


End file.
